


About That Essay

by ghettoassenglishman



Series: AU's FOR YOU [10]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Student/Teacher, Blow Jobs, M/M, Riding, Smut, Teasing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-14
Updated: 2015-06-14
Packaged: 2018-04-04 09:53:39
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,633
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4133142
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ghettoassenglishman/pseuds/ghettoassenglishman
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ian is the new substitute teacher and Mickey's that kid at the back of the class who won't stop sucking on his fucking lollipop. </p><p>(Anon Prompt: Gallavich - teacher/student au)</p>
            </blockquote>





	About That Essay

**Author's Note:**

> I FUCKING LOVE THESE AU'S LIKE DAAAAAAAAAAAAMN. Tell me what you think? ahaha. 
> 
> I was also inspired by - Imagine one of your OTP sucking on a lollipop teasingly to distract the other person.

Ian took a deep breath before entering the classroom – he had no idea why he took a job as a teacher (or Sub as Lip was always happy to remind him of)- he tugged nervously at the hem of his shirt; it wasn't a lie that he really fucking hated the older kids because they either sent him sly digs or they tried to nonchalantly flirt with him – either way it distracted him from his actual job. Lip had reminded him over and over again that being a substitute was national suicide because the kids were beasts – but in his casual white shirt, and black jeans, Ian couldn't do anything about it. Taking a deep breath, he stepped through – strangely the classroom was immediately quiet, a couple of girls gasping as he stepped through into the respectfully crowded classroom.

It was very...underwhelming if he had to put it in one sentence. As expected the room was cluttered with rows of desks, a couple of kids rushing to their seats, others just carried on their conversations as eyed him narrowly as he stepped over to the desk. The broad was covered in writing was the normal teacher, the desk piled up with paper and books that were overflowing. He sat himself down into the desk-chair, swaying from side to side as he scanned over the table. There were half-graded essays for the lesson plan – there was _even_ an apple at the corner of the desk that he immediately knew was from one of the nicer kids; unless they poisoned it so they could miss out on a lesson. In that case, he would just leave the apple uneaten. It was safer that way.

The words _Mr Gallagher..._ jumped out on a little scrap piece of paper. He looked up at the unaffected class and then back down to the note.

 

_Mr Gallagher,_

 

_I'm really sorry for leaving you with my class but I really needed this. Thankyou for taking the offer to teach them for the day. They're not doing much in class so just make them catch up on any sort of work they have left to complete. All of them should have something to do, if not, just give them back their essays to improve. No one should give you trouble, hopefully, if they do send them to the principle or leave their names for me to sort out. Don't fall for Mickey's distractions, nor his attitude – it isn't because you're new. (he's just a dick, but obviously us teachers can't say that.)_

 

_Thank you again, I'm extremely grateful._

 

_Mr Green._

 

Ian sighed with relief – the class all together looked challenging and he wasn't prepared to teach advanced English literature, especially to a class that looked like they wanted to pry his eyes out with a fork. He was only five years older than them so it wasn't like he didn't know what they were thinking.

When he cleared his throat, only a couple turned from their seats. Even one kid rolled his eyes – the little asshole – and a couple scoffed when they realised they actually had to do work for the day. Ian felt the heat in his chest – he wasn't yet ready for any bullshit that the kids were obviously planning for him.

Once everyone had calmed, and sat into their seats, Ian made his way to the front of the class, leaning back against the desk with his arms crossed. He began his dreaded spiel, “Hi, I'm Mr. Gallagher. Your teacher had to leave last minute, so here I am. He left you some work for you to complete, I'm sure you all know what that is.” He scanned the room slowly, taking note of each student and their reactions. They all looked a little unamused and some looked like they hadn't slept for three days – but he wasn't too bothered by that.

“If you have any questions, or maybe you want me to read anything...” Ian trailed off with the instructions as he locked eyes with a student, casually leaning back against his chair, in the back corner of the room. The guy had stark-black hair, combed back against his head, his pale skin contrasting against the extremely dark hair. _Shit –_ his shoulders were broad, poking out a little through his black tank-top. How could a kid have such broad and speculating shoulders? His glimmering bright blue eyes were hard to miss, but shit, Ian couldn't help but glance at those red, plump limps that shaped into a smirk. In between the taunting lips was a red lollipop, which the boy sucked deeply against with a raised eyebrow.

Ian guessed it was that _Mickey_ kid.

Suddenly, he retracted his gaze, looking around the class _but_ in the eye-sight of the boy he guessed was purposely sucking against the piece of candy to draw Ian's attention. “Um,” Ian coughed out, shaking his head from all the thoughts riding around his head. What was he saying again? “Okay, if you need help just bring them to me and I'll read through them.” He moved back to his chair, still questioning his thoughts that involved the smirking boy at the back.

Nope. He wouldn't look. He couldn't look. Shit. He looked. Fuck.

The kid, he was still in question was Mickey, was darting his tongue back and forth against the lollipop, his eyes glued to Ian's with his eyebrows raised, deviously. Ian tapped his foot against the floor as he sat down with a grunt. This kid was definitely trying to get him to look over – that or he just wanted to make him flush in the middle of a class of seniors. Ian swallowed harshly, pretending to look over some past essays as his eyes were trying hard not to look over to the back corner.

It lasted the whole lesson. Ian was trying not to go crazy, or pop a hard-on and get sacked on his first day in the school. And shit, he shouldn't be thinking of bending the guy over the desk and pounding his ass – he was a fucking _student._ Oh boy, he did want to fuck him, though. The slight difficulty was that he was a teacher – that was against the law wasn't it? To fuck a student?

Once he pulled himself together, trying to distract his thoughts from the dark-haired smirking boy, he dared himself to look up. Shit. That was bad move. The boy had finished his last lollipop and moved to another one – a red one – how convenient? The boy winked towards him, resting the candy against his bottom lip, tongue flicking out lazily, running over the sweet before he shoved it fully into his mouth. _Fuck._ Ian felt his dick twitch as the boy pulled the candy out of his mouth, saliva causing a pop as he licked his lips.

 _You can't do this._ Ian thought to himself. The kid was a student, he was a teacher, those two things didn't mix. Only if it was involved in some unrealistic porno. The thing was, which was really irritating, Ian couldn't look away from the red lips. The kid knew exactly what he was doing – and _fuck_ he could use his mouth well. More than well. And oh god, he couldn't help think what those lips would feel like wrapped around his -

No. Ian had to stop. He couldn't do this.

When he looked over again he swore he could see laughter in the kids eyes. That little shit. He knew _exactly_ what he was doing, _and_ what effect he had on him.

Ian scanned the seating plan – finding out what the smirking wonder was actually called. As expected it was _Mickey._ Of course. Mr Green had warned him about Mickey and yet he still fell into the trap. Shit.

He looks back over to _Mickey._ The kid looked so innocent, so quiet, so normal sitting quietly at his desk. From what Ian new was an act, Mickey was looking over his essay, still sucking against the candy like he was some experienced cock sucker. Ian inhaled sharply, hands tightening against his pen. He was trying so hard not to launch the pen to the kids head – that little fucker. Mickey smirked out a little, humming a innocent tune as he twirled the stick of the lollipop around in his mouth, the candy pressing against the side of his cheek.

Ian couldn't help but wonder what his dick would look like- _No._ This kid was really good a distracting him from his actual job.

Then he hears the pop of Mickey's lips and _fuck_ he was done for all over again.

That was it. Ian had enough. It wasn't like he was closeted to seducing people – years in the club could come to good use at this point. Discarding the fact he was initially trying to taunt a _student_ Ian starts to undo the two top buttons of his shirt, trailing his fingers aimlessly down his shirt. Two could play at this game.

Ian was already aware that his body was toned, he worked out most days of the week, and went for runs every morning – he knew how to provoke someone – and Mickey needed a taste of his own medicine.

As he leaned back against his chair, chest pushing out a little, he looked over to Mickey. The stick had stopped completely in Mickey's mouth, his eyes widening with a glint that Ian could sense of mischievousness. Mickey scoffed a little, but Ian could still see it, looking a little impressed by Ian's relatively smooth actions. Ian continued with victory, starting to roll his sleeves up to his forearms as innocently as possible. _Oh, this was working, for sure._

He locked eyes with Mickey, smiling a little. The kid was barely aware that his lollipop was dangling from his lips, his eyes zeroed towards Ian's exposed forearms and clear skin of his chest on show. As soon as he sensed Ian's game, the kid's face split into a wide smirk – accepting Ian's challenge happily. Ian had no idea what would come of it next – it wasn't rocket science to know that Mickey had more things up his sleeve for Ian … or down in his pants for that matter.

Ian wasn't going to back down. Not now.

Sneakily, he leans back, arms crossed, innocently trying to act like he wasn't involved with the seduction of his student. He reads the not the teacher wrote for him, again, trying to work out if he could do anything but look at Mickey sucking his god-damn fucking lollipop. That's until he hears footsteps approaching his desk.

Shit.

It was Mickey. Of course it was. The boy was smaller than he had realised, but that wasn't a problem, if anything – Ian wanted him more. The tank-top tight against his chest was definitely doing him favours, and Ian too, his arms were bulky, pale but freckled slightly from the summer sun. Ian licked his lips, trying to act oblivious to the fact that Mickey was testing him greatly.

Ian didn't remember guys looking this hot in high-school.

 _Shit._ He wanted Mickey so bad. And shit it had to be against the law, didn't it?

“ _Mickey,_ can I help you with something?” Ian asked, quirking his eyebrow. It wasn't a shock that Mickey had come up – the offer was there and it was obvious that the guy would take it. Mickey dropped his paper against the desk, before taking the apple at the edge of the desk and sunk his teeth into it.

As he swallowed, he leaned into the desk, apple in hand. “You said you would read through our essays, _sir.”_ And if looks could kill Ian would have died sixty minutes ago. The kid smirked, fucking _smirked,_ and he literally didn't give a fuck. His voice was low, raspy, just as expected, like it did something to the word _sir._ Bad things.

“ _Right.”_ Ian swallowed harshly, taking the paper. “Sit down. I'll call you up when I'm done.”

Mickey sinks his teeth back into the apple, tapping his fingers against the desk in a unordered manner, sighing a little too loud. “Oh, I hope for it.” Mickey turns on his heel, easy grin pulling at his lips.

Ian tried not to stare as Mickey's ass as he sauntered to the back of the classroom. _God,_ that ass. The things he could _do_ to that ass, even.

 _Stop._ Ian tells himself. He looks down towards the paper, ready to scan through a large amount of English literature analysis, when he realised that it wasn't detailed notes but one of Mickey's seduction techniques.

That little shit.

Ian laughs a little when he reads through;

 

_Mr Gallagher...hm, has a nice ring to it. Wonder what it would sound like when I screamed it out whilst you pounded my ass. Sounds nice, doesn't it?_

 

_Am I making you feel uncomfortable, Mr G? Am I making you hard and wet in your pants? I am, aren't I?  Why don't I suck your cock instead of this lollipop? Huh?_

 

_Why don't you call me back over? I know you want to._

 

Surely, Mickey was breaking the law by writing that stuff in the middle of a literature class. _Surely,_ Ian shouldn't be impressed by this. But he was. This kid had balls, and to be honest he wouldn't mind seeing them. But _no,_ Ian couldn't think like this, read this, and actually get turned on by it? Could he? It would break his sense of authority and definitely cause risk to his job. Was it worth it?

Fuck.

Ian looks up, and as expected Mickey was waiting for him, apple nearly finished. Ian nods for him to come back over. He wasn't entirely sure what to say at this point. What could you say to that?

When Mickey approaches, Ian coughs, clearing his throat. “It's good, _really_ good, actually. Not sure if you need my help for it.”

Mickey's mouth curves up into a smile, “Nah, I think your help would make it even _better,_ don't you think, _sir?”_ Just as Ian was ready to reply, trying to grab his act together, the bell rang before he had chance to respond.

Ian leans against the desk, looking over to Mickey. “I'm sure you'll do fine.”

“ _Hm,”_ Mickey chewed at his lip, looking back as the classroom started to clear. “I'm not too sure about that.” He drawls out slowly, tongue flickering against his bottom lip. He taps the desk before turning and walking back over to his own table. He chucks his bag over his shoulder, pulling out a scrap piece of paper from his pocket and began to scribble something onto it. Ian was more than intrigued.

Ian steps up from his chair, nodding towards students as they left the room to him ad Mickey. He bounces against his toes, placing his hands into his pockets to bulk up the surface of his chest. Mickey walks over, biting at his lip as he eyes trailed over Ian's body – from his legs to his face, all one pure masterpiece. Ian was a little thankful when he towered over Mickey, for once, he felt like he had control of the situation.

It took everything for Ian not to bend Mickey over right there over the desk.

Mickey winks, before pushing the scrap piece of paper into Ian's chest, hand lingering there for a second as he admired the touch of the toned chest. Ian looks down, confused. Mickey lets out huskily, “If there's anything you'd like to add...y'know about my essay.” And he smirks. _Again._ Ian was finding it extremely hard to control himself in all places.

When Ian doesn't say anything, Mickey backs away from the desk with a devious glint in his eyes. He dumps the half-eaten apple into the bin, biting his lip as he laughed a little leaving the room.

As soon as the room was clear, still stuck in place, Ian looks down to the piece of paper. It was a number, on the back of a liquor store recite. Mickey's number. He looked over it a couple of times.

 

_You know what to do. Mickey – 348-344-0562_

 

Holy shit.

Ian didn't have a clue what to do now.

 

***

No. Ian wasn't going to text him. There was no way he could. But maybe he _could._ It wasn't like Mickey was his student anymore – or that the age gap was _that_ big. Plus, Ian had been thinking about Mickey's tongue and lips, and those big blue eyes throughout the rest of the day, and fuck, if he wasn't smitten to them. And honestly, Ian had no idea how to confront the situation, or Mickey. It wasn't like he could just text him casually like he would with Lip or Fiona.

This was different. This was someone he yearned to bend over and fuck. This wasn't a text letting Mickey knew that he had cooked himself some dinner and finished applying for countless jobs that he knew would decline.

Instead, he goes for it. Why the fuck not. He types _Hey, it's Ian._ Then deletes, the kid didn't even know his name. He tries again with, _It's Mr Gallagher, how about you leave that lollipop and suck something else?_ No. No. No. Ian couldn't come off that blunt. Mickey would probably laugh at him. He deletes it. Then he racks his brain one last time. Third time lucky after all.

He punches out against his phone, _So, about that essay?_ And immediately he sends it. There was no backing out now. It was gone. The text had been sent and Mickey had probably received it by now. Ian stands up, rubbing a rough hand over his face. “Why am I doing this, again?” He mutters to himself, before he mental notes all the hot and seductive features that Mickey held. Those lips for one.

_Ah, yes. That's why._

Ian heads for the kitchen to batch himself up some dinner when he hears his phone buzzing against the arm of the couch. He leans over and reads the caller ID. Great. It was Mickey. Of fucking course. And shit, he had no idea what to say.

He picks up. “Hello?”

A low, raspy voice answers back. “I knew you'd text.”

Ian laughs a little. This kid was brave. “Is that so?” Was that flirting?

Mickey lets out a hum, shuffling a little against the phone. “You seem like a reliable person, Mr _Gallagher.”_ Mickey draws his name out – it sounded more hot that Ian wanted it to. _Fuck._

“Please don't call me that. We're not in school anymore.” Ian whines a little, he wasn't for one to role-play a teacher and his student. Wait, maybe he was. But that wasn't the point.

Ian hears Mickey click his tongue, chuckling darkly. “What should I call you then?”

“Ian.”

“Ian...” Mickey tests against his tongue. Ian knew he was enjoying this. To be honest, Ian didn't mind this either. It shot a shock up Ian's spine, something rushing through his body when he heard Mickey saying his name. Mickey carries on, almost teasingly. “That's better.”

Ian sits himself down against the couch, leaning his head back against the couch. He laughs a little against his phone. “Better than _sir?”_

“I could call you that, if you want me to?” Ian could feel Mickey's smirk.

Ian pinches his nose, trying to hide his grin. “No. Please don't.”

“Fine,” Mickey chuckles deviously against the speaker of the phone. Ian feels his stomach twisting, yearning to hear that chuckle in person. Mickey sighs over the pause, shuffling a little. “So, _Ian,_ you going to invite me over or will I have to find your place all on my own?”

Ian feels himself wanting to say yes, wanting to text him the address and wait by the door stark naked for when Mickey would arrive. But no. This was bad. Really bad. He didn't even know how old Mickey was. “You know, I can't do this.” He protests.

“Why did you text me then, huh?” Mickey teases, proving him wrong.

 _Shit._ Ian had text him. Ian had given Mickey an immediate invite to his pants when he said the kids essay was good – he brought this on himself. “Jesus. How old are you , anyway?” He tries to change the subject.

“Don't worry.” Mickey mumbles, a little huskily. God, he was teasing Ian big time. “I've been eighteen for a while now, you're not breaking the law.” His voice trails off to a laugh, innocently. Ian wanted to pin him down and teach him a lesson. Not with stupid analysis – minus the ysis and that's what he wanted.

Soon enough, Ian gave in. He gave Mickey his address, internally punching himself at his instant stupidity. Then again, he had to keep telling himself that he wasn't Mickey's teacher anymore – _and_ Mickey was of legal age. “You happy now?” He asks, teasing Mickey a little.

“I'll see you soon, _sir.”_ Mickey trailed off, voice hinted with humour. God, Ian couldn't help but feel his stomach churn, twisting around whenever he heard Mickey's voice through the phone. _What he would do to that mouth._

Mickey hangs up, leaving Ian with nothing but anticipation for what was about to happen. If Mickey's sucking skills were as good as he showed them to be around that damned lollipop Ian was in for a treat, for sure.

It was far to soon and far too _slow_ by the time Ian had heard a knock against his apartment door. He rushes over to the door, cursing a little when it struggled to open. When the door swung open, he was faced with a casual looking Mickey, leaning against the frame of the door. He was wearing a leather jacket, the tight-tank he had worn earlier, and a pair of black jeans that did justice to his growing bulge.

Ian felt himself grow hot. Mickey smirked, reaching into his pocket to pull out a unwrapped lollipop from his pocket. Ian rushes in his action, pulling at Mickey's wrist and taking the candy stick before it reached Mickey's mouth. He notices that it's red and immediately shoves it into his own mouth, teasing it just as Mickey had.

“I like your style.” Mickey winks, eyes a little wide with pleasure as Ian continued to lick against the candy as if he was sucking a thunderous cock. Two _could_ play that game. Ian hid his smirk behind the sweetness of the lollipop, running his tongue against it playfully, before turning on his heel and moving into the living area of his apartment.

He pulls it out with a pop before dumping it into the trash. He assumed Mickey would be still waiting by the door, that's why when he turned and Mickey was literally stood before him he nearly fell backwards against himself. When he stumbled, he felt Mickey's hand creep around his waist helping him stay steady.

“You falling for me, Gallagher?” Mickey smirks, winking.

Ian grunts, slowly pulling Mickey's hand away from his waist – even though it felt really fucking good and he wouldn't mind it being there for a long time. “What do you want from me, Mickey?” He asks, even though Mickey's intentions were very clear, but he didn't want to misinterpret the whole situation. And _still_ this kid was just eighteen.

“I'm looking for...” Mickey starts, stepping closer to Ian again, eyes in wonder and pure lust at this point. He looks down towards Ian's bare chest and runs his finger down the bumps of his abs, licking his lips. “for you to teach me a lesson for my _bad_ behaviour.”

Ian steps forward, tilting his head a little. “You know that stunt you pulled earlier wasn't classed as bad behaviour. It wasn't bad at all.”

Mickey flashes a grin, “I didn't see you complaining.” Mickey cocks his head in a challenge, eyes endearing. He places his hands against Ian's hips, tugging him closer to his own chest, “You going to do something about it, or what?”

Ian locked his gaze to Mickey's, reading all the underlying expressions that shone against his face. Lust was the main. Determination. Confidence, and what Ian thought he could see it felt nervousness shadowing Mickey's smirking persona.

He slowly starts to peel Mickey's coat off his shoulders, “You sure you want this?” He asks, still a little unsure of why, or how they were going to do this.

Mickey rolls his eyes, grabbing Ian's hand and placing it against his hard bulge evident in his jeans. “That enough consent for you, Mr Gallagher?” Mickey raises his brows, groaning a little when Ian's fingers twitch against his erection.

“Yeah,” Ian barely gets out, feeling his own pants grow incredibly tight.

Mickey steps forward, standing up on his tip-toes to whisper against Ian's ear, breath hot against his skin. “I want you to _fuck_ me. Hard and fucking good.”

Ian growled from the bottom of his throat, heat building in his chest as Mickey pulled his hips against his own, rutting against him. “Fuck,” Ian breathes, hands struggling to pull off Mickey's jacket as his legs threatened to tremble. Once Mickey's coat was shed, Ian lets out a gasp, “You gotta anything to say before we do this, smart-ass?”

“I'm clean.” Mickey confesses, biting his lip a little when his hands cup Ian's ass.

“Yeah. Me too.” Ian assures, briefly, before pulling Mickey into a deep but messy kiss. _Fuck,_ Mickey's lips were so fucking soft, just as expected, and oh boy – he really did taste good. There was a slight tinge of sweetness that Ian assumed was from all the lollipops he had been sucking through class. Ian groaned a he ran his tongue of Mickey's bottom lip, tugging it a little with his teeth.

Mickey regains his control, pushing Ian back a little and over towards the hall-way. He licks into Ian's mouth, directing the kiss to his full control. His hand grabs to the back of Ian's head, deepening the kiss.

“Left.” Ian mumbles against Mickey's lips, before trailing his lip to his jaw, sucking against the raw edge. Mickey groans out, pushing Ian towards the left over to the open door into the bedroom.

Stumbling, Ian manages to keep his control, shifting his lips down towards the side of Mickey's neck. He pulls Mickey close to his chest, pulling at Mickey's shift to yank it over his head. Mickey break away from the kiss, letting Ian pull the tank over the top of his head. As soon as his chest was exposed they rushed back into the kiss again.

Ian kissed gently down towards his shoulder, nipping at the pale, flushed skin. His hand scooped down low towards Mickey's bulge, palming against his dick. Mickey bucked his hips, hissing out against Ian's ear. Ian sucks against the skin of Mickey's neck, running his tongue over the sore, red, bruised skin.

Mickey continues to move backwards, hand still at the back of Ian's head. Ian's mouth moves to the column of Mickey's throat, giggling a little when he feels Mickey's skin shiver under the sudden touch. He leaves open mouthed kisses and traces each dip and contour with his tongue. By the time he reaches back to his jaw, he feels Mickey growing intensely harder against his leg, noticeably his breath quickening.

“You like that, Mick?” He whispers, biting against the lobe of Mickey's ear.

The brunette hisses, grunting through his teeth. “I'd like it if you went quicker.”

Ian hits to the challenge. He presses himself against Mickey, knocking him back against the bed, hovering above him as Mickey's chest heaved near to his own. Mickey spread his legs, hands running back and forth against Ian's back as the redhead continued to kiss roughly against his skin. “Jesus, Ian, you're fucking hot for a teacher, you know that?”

Ian's panting above him, he corrects. “A substitute.”

The brunette frowns, waving his head lazily. “Same thing, right?”

Ian stops, his hands still hooked around Mickey's waist as they lay against the bed. Mickey looks from each of his eyes, a little stuck in what to say, confused. Ian felt his heart pound heavily – this _fucking_ kid. He rushes back into the kiss, hand reaching up to cup at Mickey's cheek. He sucks slowly at Mickey's bottom lip, before licking past the seam of Mickey's lips.

Ian nips gently at Mickey's tongue whenever he tried to dominate the control of the kiss. However, he ended up just giving in, letting Mickey show him what he had been provoking during class. He pulls back, “You still want this?”

Mickey rolls his eyes, rolling them over against the bed roughly. “Fuck yes.” He leans down and nips against Ian's jaw, kissing his way over to the redheads plump, flushed wet lips. His hand trails down Ian's chest, teasing it's way down towards his growing, hot cock leaking against his pants. “My turn.” Mickey winks, panting.

Slowly, Mickey trails his tongue down Ian's chest. God, _that_ tongue. He had been thinking about it all day, and now, he got to feel the real thing. It was better than he thought it would be. Ian sucked in a breath when Mickey licked against the joint of his hip, hand clawing into his dark tussled hair.

“ _Shit,_ Ian. You _do_ work out.” Ian breathed, panting a little as he dropped to his knees at the bottom of the bed. He tugs at Ian's legs, pulling him towards the edge of the bed, kissing down the line of Ian's abs.

Ian nearly loses it when he looks down through his lashes and Mickey's already staring up at him. He leans up on his elbows, chewing at his lip as Mickey's pupils grew wide, leaving a thin ring of blue.

Mickey draws his tongue against his swollen, bottom lip. “You wanted this, didn't you, _sir?”_ Mickey began, voice thick with hunger. “You want to fuck my mouth, don't you?” His voice was just like velvet, shooting sparks straight to Ian's dick.

Ian fell from his elbows, hands running down to run through Mickey's hair. He ruts his hips and Mickey pushes them back down against the mattress. “Thought so.” Mickey grins as he dips low to Ian's bulge, swatting the older man's hands away as he worked at the buckle of his jeans.

Mickey pulled Ian's jeans down, slowly gripping them off of his legs. His hands run up Ian's soft, smooth thighs, mouthing at Ian's cock through his boxers.

“Holy _shit.”_ Ian gasped, eyes nearly rolling to the back of his head. His head falls back at the sensation of those smirking lips, wrapped around his cock like they were _born_ to sucking it. Ian threads his hands through Mickey's messy hair, tugging at it slightly as Mickey's lips brush against the thin layer surrounding his cock.

Apparently, Mickey was loving it. He pulls eagerly at Ian's boxers, shedding them off with one urgent tug. In one swift glide, Mickey circled the base of Ian's cock with one hand, pumping it slowly, teasingly. He pauses, looking up to Ian with a smirk plastered on his lips before sucking the tip of Ian's dick.

“ _Fuck!”_ Ian gasps out, pleading, his hips shooting up suddenly. _God,_ Mickey's lips felt better than he had guessed they would. It was all wet, hot and just darn right fucking good around him. Mickey flicked her tongue across the slit before hallowing his cheeks, slowly swallowing Ian whole.

Ian watched, eyes widen and lusting, as Mickey bobbed his head fast against his cock. He let out a desperate moan, hand still tugging helplessly into Mickey's hair. Mickey's own moans vibrated against Ian's cock, humming lightly against his shaft as if he was enjoying it as much as Ian was.

Ian opened his mouth, letting out a raspy moan, his head lolling back against the mattress as he felt Mickey massage against Ian's balls, his tongue licking the underside of Ian's cock, tracing up the thick vein.

“Holy fuck – _Oh,_ Mickey.” Ian's hands tighten in Mickey's hair, his groans causing Mickey to move faster against his leaking cock.

Mickey drew back, spit still lingering at the tip of Ian's cock. He licks at his red, swelled lips, and asks lowly, “Is this what you wanted, huh? You like this, Ian?” He flicks his tongue over Ian's cock, hoisting his hand against Ian's wriggling hip. “You've been thinking about this all day, haven't you?”

“ _Shit,_ this is better.” Ian hisses, squirming a little. “This is so much fucking better. Jesus. Mick.” He grips at Mickey's hair, leaning up on one elbow as he watched Mickey grow hotter, and faster against his cock, _that_ smirk evident against his face.

Mickey hummed against Ian's confession, before swallowing him whole again, the tugging on his hair more insistent. Ian groans out from the bottom of his throat, hissing out, “Fuck, I'm so close...ugh.”

Suddenly, Mickey pulls off with a pop, standing up against his cramped legs. Ian suddenly sits up, pulling Mickey down for a desperate kiss. Mickey falls into it.

“Why the fuck are you still dressed?” Ian demands, biting against the skin of Mickey's jaw, hands desperate against the buckle of Mickey's jeans.

Mickey stands up from the hovering kiss. Ian takes a moment to watch the flex of Mickey's muscles, licking his lips in lust to just kiss against the broad shoulders and the sweat-glimmering abs that popped out against his chest. Ian leans up to help Mickey with his jeans, pulling them off with urgency.

Ian pulls Mickey against the bed, kissing against the broad structure of his chest. Ian stops for a moment, unsure of which position Mickey liked. He forgot to ask that question in the midst of the heated kissing and extremely hot blow-job.

Mickey strokes against Ian's eager cock, “Get the fuck on me, Gallagher.” Mickey roll over, pulling Ian above him so they were face to face.

The redhead pulls him up for a kiss, hand soft but rough against the back of his neck. “You done this before?” Ian whispered, as if he wanted to keep the whole thing just between the two of them. He assumed Mickey had, but there was always the chance Mickey hadn't done this before.

Mickey groans out, rolling his eyes. “Are you seriously asking me that?”

“Well, have you?” Ian tilts his head, waiting for Mickey to elaborate.

The brunette ruts his hips upwards, grunting a little. “Yes, Sir. Someone has fucked me in the ass before, now can _you?”_ Mickey would of sounded sweet if it wasn't for his dashing, mischievous grin that shadowed his innocent personality.

“Jesus,” Ian knocks his head on Mickey's sweaty shoulder. “Do you have to call to me that?”

Mickey lets out a genuine laugh, “Fine. I won't, Mr Gallagher.”

Ian groans, pinching Mickey's chest. “Fuck you, asshole.”

The brunette grins, lifting Ian's head up so their lips were barely brushing apart. “Oh, I thought you'd never ask.” He rolls his hips to meet Ian's, hissing out sexually as they met with a raw, beautiful sensation that shot sparks.

Ian leans back to grab lube from the night-stand, distracted by the soft touch of Mickey's fingers roaming against his chest. “Hurry the fuck up.” Mickey pleads, hooking his leg around Ian's waist to push him closer.

“Patience.” Ian points his finger, popping the cap of the lube.

Mickey urged, rolling his hips back against Ian's. “Come _on,_ Mr Gallagher.”

Ian grunts, leaning back down and taking Mickey's mouth against his own, roughly.

“I thought I said that you couldn't call me that?” Ian said, punctuating the statement by biting sharply on Mickey's bottom lip, hand trailing down the brunettes chest.

Mickey continued his teasing, “What you going to do about it, huh?” Suddenly, with thirstiness, Ian pins Mickey's hands above him, holding them place with a firm grip. His other hand works its way across Mickey's chest, moving down towards his urging cock, before he circled his tight, awaiting hole with one slick finger.

“You don't _know_ what I can do, Mick.” Ian warns, circling the puckered hole over and over. He licks against the column of Mickey's neck, sucking against his pulse point, softly and tenderly.

Mickey rocks his hips towards Ian's hand, “Why don't you show me?” Mickey hummed underneath him, wiggling his eyebrows a little. Ian gasps at the invitation, pushing one finger in slowly, chuckling when Mickey released a sound from the back of his throat, the brunettes back arching up against the mattress, arms still straining from where they were above his head.

Mickey squirmed as Ian pressed a second finger in, licking his lips with concentration to get Mickey all hot and flustered. He leans down, he couldn't resist, capturing Mickey's lips with another messy kiss. Mickey takes control, once again, licking into Mickey's mouth as he stretched out the tight muscle. Ian crooked his fingers inside of Mickey, searching for his prostate.

In time, Ian works Mickey up, opening him up. The brunette was gasping beneath him, his black hair falling against his forehead, wet with sweat. Mickey struggles to keep his mouth closed, the words tumbling out, “Get the fuck on me, Ian. Just – fucking – _God,_ you're killing me here, man.” He wriggles his wrists, trying to spring himself free as Ian continued to massage his prostate.

“You want me, Mick?” Ian grins, pulling yet another moan from Mickey.

Mickey nods frantically, chest heaving as Ian worked him open. “ _Ian, -_ fuck – _Please._ Just -” He stutters out, hardly able to breathe.

Ian smirks, “Oh, I love it when you beg, Mickey.” He taunts, kissing along Mickey's jawline, nipping at the skin.

Mickey lets out a hopeless cry, tossing his head from side to side. He gasped out loud as Ian releases his hand from his ass. He leans back, slowly rolling on the condom down his cock. Mickey licks his lips at the glorious sight.

Ian drops a quick kiss to Mickey's lips before asking, “You ready?”

Mickey sinks his teeth into his lip, “ _Fuck,_ just hurry the hell up.” Mickey huffs out, his hips pleading to be gripped. Ian pulls him towards himself, hands tightening against the joint of his hips. With one hand he teases his cock against Mickey's stretched hole.

The brunette grunts, impatiently. “For fucks sakes.” He pushes against Ian's hand holding his own, breaking free from it. He shoves at Ian's chest, rolling them over so he could straddle his hips. He shifts himself against Ian's waist, legs on either side of Ian's sides. Mickey braces himself against Ian's chest with one hand, the other slowly pumping against Ian's cock before he lined himself up with his cock.

“Holy fuck, Mick.” Ian gasps, eyes wide.

Mickey presses a shaky finger against Ian's lips, before slowly taking in Ian's cock into his tight, yearning hole. His thighs strain as he tries to adjust to the filling feeling. He lets out a satisfied moan as he sinks fully down against Ian's hips.

Ian could barely move, or talk, his hands coming up to hold onto Mickey's bare waist. He plants his feet firmly on the bed, ready to pound Mickey's ass as the younger boy rode him like thunder. He grips to Mickey's hips before shooting a harsh thrust up inti Mickey, watching as Mickey's mouth dropped open, head dipping, as his hicks rocked in rhythm with Ian's movements.

As Ian pounded, Mickey throws his head back, hands planted against Ian's chest, slipping along the wet, slick skin of his chest. Ian tries not to blow his load as he takes on look at Mickey; the flushed skin, the heaving chest, the fluttering eyes, the way his hips rolled at each thrust.

Mickey bit at his lip, moving with Ian, his cock leaking with precome, pooling a little against Ian's toned, heaved stomach. Ian snaps his hips up again, pounding. Mickey pushes at Ian's chest, leaning back a little to change the angle. Mickey rolls his hips down, tightening his ass around Ian as he rode him intensely.

Ian reaches up and presses the pad of his thumb into Mickey's mouth. “Look at me.”

“ _Shit,”_ Mickey's adam's apple bobs, he looks down, eyes fluttering.

Ian can't resist. Mickey looks so damn good, just like he did with that lollipop but better. “God fucking _damn_ it.” He hisses as he sits up, Mickey falling further into his lap. He flips them over, resting himself between Mickey's legs. The brunette pulls him down to attach their lips, hooking his legs around his waist as he urged Ian to rock against him.

Mickey moans, hand gripping into Ian's red, tangled hair. His other hand reaches between the hot, gap of their bodies, stroking himself with Ian's furious thrusts.

Ian shifts Mickey's thighs higher against his waist, he gasps between their lips, his forehead pressing against Mickey's. “ _F-fuck_ Mickey. Ugh. Yes.” he tightens his fingers around Mickey's legs, snapping his hips forward.

“Faster.” Mickey breathes against Ian's skin, panting helplessly.

Ian loves the sight of Mickey squirming, a wrecked bag of moans, broken up with low pleas. Ian does as Mickey asks, hammering his hips up into Mickey. The brunette trails his hand down Ian's back, running his fingers down towards the cleft of Ian's ass, curving around the cushion of muscle.

Oh god, Ian was so close. So fucking close. He leans forward so his and Mickey's chests are stuck together, Mickey's heaving and gasping in a roll as Ian pushed himself in deeper. He moved one hand to the back of Mickey's neck, drawing in the kiss further, whilst the other held onto Mickey's hip, his own pounding into Mickey as if they were loosing life any minute.

“ _Fuck._ Fuck. Fuck. Fuck.” Mickey chanted as Ian sped up, skin slapping against each-other as the rhythm increased, Ian hitting Mickey's prostate every time. “ _Harder._ Jesus fucking Christ. Shit.” Mickey's pleads came more urgent as his climax grew closer and closer.

Mickey came with a hoarse cry, spilling out across the gap between his and Ian's chests. His ass clenched tightly around Ian's cock, causing Ian to cry out into a sharp moan. “Holy-” Ian tried to get out, erratically thrusting his hips into Mickey as his climax with a bang, filling up the condom still wrapped around his cock.

Ian dropped his head against Mickey's chest, hands roaming the wet skin.

Mickey lets out a shaky laugh, still panting. “ _Jesus,_ that was fucking good.”

“Better than your other fucks?” Ian asks, resting his chin against Mickey's chest.

The brunette lets out a laugh, reaching to Ian's beside where an old packet of smokes rested. How did Mickey even see them? The brunette lights one up and takes a few drags, exhaling to the side of Ian's face with dopey grin. “Mr Gallagher, you have no idea.”

“Thought I said not to call me that.” Ian smiled, taking the smoke when Mickey offered it to him. He takes a drag, watching as Mickey licked at his lips, finally able to breathe after the hottest sex he had ever had.

Ian moves his hand out of the way as he leans down to capture Mickey's lips with his own, tenderly licking into the seam of his mouth, letting their tongues dance together. Ian rolled over, slipping out of Mickey with a wince. He tosses the condom into the trash beside the bed, letting his exhale come out dramatically.

Mickey leans up, grabbing his shirt off the floor to wipe the mess off his stomach. He sits up, swatting Ian's chest a little. “Guess I'm getting off then.” Mickey mumbles, beginning to scoot off of the bed before he feels Ian's freehand catch his wrist.

“You can stay if you want.” Ian tells him, thumb stroking against the skin of his wrist. His eyes are pleading; he liked Mickey's company. It was some-what comforting in a way. “I mean you can go if you want, but I like you being here. I'd prefer it if you stayed for a while.”

Mickey hesitated at first, before letting Ian pull him against the bed. They both lay against the sheets, still panting a little in the after glow. Ian puts out the smoke before drawing Mickey close to his chest. The brunette tensed before allowing it. Ian sighs, hand running down Mickey's bare back. “This is nice.”

“Yeah, okay.” Mickey mumbles, playfully.

Ian scoffs, nerves brimming against his words. He looks down towards Mickey, ready to ask the question that had been racking his brain for the last couple of minutes. “So, we doing this again?” He tries to act nonchalant, but he really did want it to happen again. He actually, kinda, really fucking liked Mickey.

“Yeah, in about two minutes.” Mickey grinned with hope. He turns in Ian's arms, resting his chin against the skin of Ian's shoulder. “Do you want to?”

Was Mickey seriously asking that? Ian huffs out. “Hell fucking yes.”

“Good.” Mickey breathed in relief. “Because I like em' sweet.”

Mickey grinned at Ian's sharp, loud laugh. It was a beautiful laugh. Ian had no idea that he would ever sleep with a student – not one that was this _good._ He kisses at Mickey's forehead. He giggles again when Mickey grunts and curses at the domestic gesture.

_Yes, he could totally do this all over again._

The brunette yawned into the back of his hand, before he shifted against Ian's body to find a comfortable position. "You ready for round two,  _Sir?”_

Ian rolled his eyes, smiling wide, he felt Mickey breathe slowly into his neck.

The little shit.


End file.
